HalfLife
by AhiFlame
Summary: For years Jack has kept his darkest secret close beside him. However, he is forced to tell Ana the truth when a mysterious figure confronts Jack and claims to know the answers he seeks. JA. Rating for some violence. COMPLETE.
1. Part 1

**DISCLAIMER:** I think we all know the truth. But for those who want to know, here it is: I do not claim ownership of anything you recognize. They belong to whom they belong and those people know who they are. Savvy?

**Summary:** For years Jack has kept his darkest secret close beside him. However, he is forced to tell Ana the truth when a mysterious figure confronts Jack and claims to know the answers Jack seeks. J/A. Rating for some violence.

_A/n: Thanks to Jackfan2 for betaing this first chapter and telling me it was good when I wanted to toss it. Yer a great friend and cap'n, mate!_

**Half-Life**

**Part 1**

"Jack, are ye comin'?" Gibbs inquired as he watched his captain turn not toward the gang plank but toward his cabin. The quartermaster's curiosity was sparked; why was Jack avoiding a trip into Tortuga?

"Aye." Jack replied simply whilst continuing to his closed cabin door in his over-exaggerated swagger.

"Then why-"

"Need me hat." Jack turned fluidly on his heel to face the group of crew and indicated his vacant head. Indeed, his hat was absent.

Gibbs shook his head; only Jack would care so much about his effects to refuse a venture simply to retrieve such simple items. Ana rolled her eyes in irritation; Jack had ordered her to accompany him into Tortuga this evening and now he was holding everything up! Jack threw his crew a golden grin, which only added to Ana's vexation, and turned back to his cabin.

"Alright Cap'n, we'll meet ye on th' dock." Gibbs said quickly as he began ushering the remaining crew off the ship's deck and literally dragging Ana along lest she do something drastic to get Jack going.

Jack nodded and flitted a hand carelessly in a form of wave before he disappeared into his cabin. The group of crewmembers collected on the dock and milled around in wait, but not quite patiently. Smiles and excited banter were in order as the crew barely contained their eager anticipation for the night's festivities. They happily discussed and laughed as they conversed about the things they'd do and places they'd go on their shore-leave. Many talked of a favorite strumpet or two, and Gibbs listened and even joined in as most looked forward to drinking their fill and getting pointlessly drunk for as long as possible. But, as time ebbed by with no sign of their captain, the happy anticipation became agitated and borderline mutinous. In those minutes the crew continued to grow ever more restless and finally Gibbs dismissed them, leaving him and Ana alone to wait for their eccentric captain.

"What do ye suppose is keepin' 'im?" Gibbs muttered as he turned a questioning gaze on Ana. A pleading look appeared in his eyes but was tempered by 'don't rile the woman by making her think she needs to keep track of their captain'. He silently implored her to check on their commander.

"Wha'?" she asked sharply the instant she felt his gaze on her. When the quartermaster didn't answer she crossed her arms stubbornly over her chest. "I ain't goin' t' get him." Gibbs' insistent stare was silently urging her to check on Jack but she truly didn't want to.

Finally her resistance broke.

With an irritated sigh Ana stormed back up the gang plank and across the deck to Jack's closed cabin door. The first knock was polite, but curt. No answer. Then came the more insistent pounding, after which she placed her fists on her hips and waited for an answer.

None came.

"Jack!" she called out.

Still no answer.

Rolling her eyes to herself she placed a tentative hand on the knob, turned it and poked her head inside. "Jack?" she said again and peered around the cabin. With an indignant 'harrumph' she stepped inside, letting the door fall shut behind her.

"Jack?" she called and visually scanned the room. Seeing no sign of the pirate captain, concern began to prick at her conscience even while her anger was kicked up a notch. Cautiously, she stepped further into the room with an alert stance tensing her entire body and instinctively her hand went to the hilt of her cutlass. "Ja-aaaacckkkk!!" Ana's call turned into a squeal of surprise as a weight rammed her from behind and pinned her to the floor. In her efforts she closed her eyes as she writhed wildly trying to free her fists and legs with which she could defend herself but who—or what—ever was holding her seemed to know which way she would twist before she moved.

"Gotcha luv, relax,"

Ana froze at the familiar voice. In seconds she recognized the voice and her eyes flew open. Just as quickly, they narrowed to mere slits as anger flared in their depths. The anger was directed at one man alone and that man was currently straddling her with a sloppy grin plastered on his face. "Jack! I thought ye were…" she stopped herself and her expression grew darker as realization dawned. "Bloody pirate!!"

"A bit paranoid are we luv?" Jack asked with a playful grin, still pinning her effortlessly. Ana's fiery glare did nothing to faze the pirate captain and he leaned in closer to her ear. "How about we skip Tortuga fer th' night? Stay here…t'gether."

"'m not paranoid," Ana growled dangerously as she cast her glance away from his tomcat-like grin. Just as she anticipated, she felt him relax his grip and she seized her opportune moment. With a mighty heave she surged upward. The end result was him lying slightly stunned about a foot away. Ana moved swiftly and delivered a sharp slap to his face. "Don' try tha' again."

Jack quickly set to rubbing his sore cheek but managed to grin shamelessly none the less. His expression soon made Ana's anger ebb and she smiled back.

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"Eight ball in th' corner pocket." A burly man leaned forward with a cue stick in hand. Bits of his grungy brown hair that had escaped the leather tie hung limply around his face. In concentration he ran his thick tongue over dry, cracked lips and drew the stick back between grungy fingers. Eyes narrowed, he was just about to tap the ball…

"Ye sure 'bout that mate?"

With a growl of irritation the man pushed himself away from the pool table and glared at the dark man leaning casually on his pool stick. A golden grin illuminated the pirate's face and his kohl-rimmed eyes danced with amusement but the flickering candlelight hid the fact from his opponent.

"Wha' now?" the large man huffed. He was beginning to get fed up with this overly-confident jester's constant interruptions which he could swear were meant only to irritate him. If that was the case, it was working and the sailor had not the mind to hide it.

Jack pushed his advantage for he knew that if he unraveled this simpleton he'd be able to win the game without a hitch. Additionally, it was quite entertaining. "Which corner?"

"Th' one on th' other side o' th' table, tha's which."

The dark pirate's grin seemed to fade which made the heftier sailor think he had won the discussion. Unfortunately for him, that was not the case.

"Y'know it all depends on _how_ you look at it, mate. I mean, think about it! There's four sides t' th' table an' all are th' same. For all I know, you plan to shoot into all four corner pockets at once which is quite improbable if not impossible-"

The hefty man's face darkened considerably and he adjusted his posture in an attempt to look more threatening to the blathering pirate. "Y'mind lettin' me take my shot?"

"Can't rightly do tha' mate unless ye let us all know just _which_ pocket ye're shootin' for. Myself, I'm a might confused. Is it tha' one, tha' one, tha' one, or tha' _other_ one?" Jack's hands were moving at a mile a minute as they wove their hypnotizing pattern and indicated each pocket when Jack spoke of it.

"Wha's new, ye bloody drunk? Ye're always confused."

Jack paused and lifted a finger as a fresh grin slowly lit his face. "Tha's _Captain_ Sparrow, savvy?"

"Sparrow? Jack Sparrow?" Jack's eyes darkened in irritation and he prepared to correct the bystander who had so rudely disregarded his title but didn't get the chance as the speaker continued. "Someone were 'ere lookin' fer ye."

Jack's amber eyes sparked with a hint of interest and his previous thoughts of correcting the man vanished. "Really? Tha's interesting."

"'e's sittin' o'er there." The man pointed a slim finger to the darkest corner of the tavern where a single man was sitting and nursing a bottle of rum.

"Ah." Jack nodded. Turning his attentions back to the table he lowered his cue stick and, after eyeing the angle carefully, he shot at the eight ball which banked twice before landing in the pocket the other sailor had vaguely indicated beforehand. "Looks like I win, mate." With a brief wink he tossed his pool stick onto the table and strode across the tavern to where the cloaked figure sat, ignoring the gaping stares he felt at his back. Sinking into the chair across from the figure Jack propped his feet up on the table. "'ello mate. You wanted t' talk?"

"Indeed. But not here."

Jack's eyebrow rose in silent question though he was sure the other couldn't see the gesture as the cloaked man's head was tilted down. "Where then?"

"The docks in one hour. Trust me, it's worth your while to show up." The figure stood up and turned smartly on his heel. The heavy cloak flowed about him as he left the tavern.

Jack watched the figure leave with a curious stare and then allowed his gaze to slide down to the abandoned mug. As he slipped into his silent musings and the usual smirk faded to a frown, his eyes grew unfocused. "Tha's interesting," Jack whispered to himself absently.


	2. Part 2

**DISCLAIMER:** I think we all know the truth. But for those who want to know, here it is: I do not claim ownership of anything you recognize. They belong to whom they belong and those people know who they are. Savvy?

**Summary:** For years Jack has kept his darkest secret close beside him. However, he is forced to tell Ana the truth when a mysterious figure confronts Jack and claims to know the answers Jack seeks. J/A. Rating for some violence.

**Half-Life**

**Part 2**

Footfalls echoed down the empty lane but were muffled slightly by the mist clouding the air. The sounds turned even more hollow as their owner stepped onto the wooden planks that made up the dock. Jack came to a stop and squinted through the mist and fog, shifting his hands in his coat pockets to keep them warm; the night was growing cool. He glanced about half-heartedly and leaned against one of the tall beams that rose from the depths of the sea to support the dock. Despite his façade of carelessness a feeling deep in his gut told him that something about the situation was amiss. A sense of foreboding coursed through his blood and he felt his senses heighten to detect any movement or sound.

What if this was some sort of trick? An ambush?

He shook his head forcefully, banishing the thoughts along with pulling his hat down to cover his eyes. He also began to hum his favorite tune which soon developed into a muttered song.

"…drink up me 'earties, yo ho. Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me. We kindle and char, da da duh, drink up-"

"Me 'earties, yo ho."

Jack almost jumped and looked up from under his hat's shadow, the thick leather blocking the sight of one eye. He grinned to himself when the hooded man from the tavern strode down the dock toward him, alone.

"Welcome mate. Ye know a good shanty."

"Mmm…yes, Jack Sparrow. It seems we have more in common than we thought, eh?"

Jack tilted his head back so he was looking at the figure full in the face. "I suppose so. But tell me, wha's so great tha' you told me t' come here?"

"Follow me for I have something to show you."

"First tell me why I'm here, savvy?" Jack ordered, his tone suddenly quite business-like. He was not about to march himself into a trap if he could help it.

"I know what you do not about yourself."

"Talk straight, you're startin' t' sound like me."

"I know all about your past, Jack Sparrow."

Jack kept his tone level and his expression blasé as he replied. "Tha's where yer wrong mate. I know my past. So sorry to disappoint."

"Really? Would you care to share? Just to prove me wrong?"

"No."

"That would imply you do not remember it-"

Jack drew himself to his full height and looked at the man with a barely suppressed edge residing in his eyes. His hand flew to the cloaked figure's throat and cut off the passage of air through the man's windpipe while Jack's expression remained collected. "I know my past. Don't you _ever_ insist that I don't," the pirate captain said in a low, dangerous tone, "savvy?" Jack released the strange man and watched as he rubbed at his throat tenderly.

"'Pirate through and through' is that what you think, Jack Sparrow?"

"Aye, an' don't ferget it," Jack hissed, turning his back sharply on the cloaked man and proceeding back toward the town. "This was a waste of time."

"Won't you follow just for curiosity's sake? Who knows? You might learn something."

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"Wha's so great about this?" Jack asked dully, staring uninterestedly at the decrepit carriage house. Part of the roof had collapsed as well as several other support beams which left only one cramped entrance hidden partially by some of the debris.

"So you do not recognize it?"

"Should I?"

"Perhaps. Take a look and see if anything rings a bell."

Jack risked an uncertain sideways glance at the cloaked figure, searching the man's posture for any signs of betrayal, of which he found none. Still wary, Jack stepped toward the carriage house with all his senses alert. Though he still thought this a trap and his mind was screaming at him to stop his forward progress his body continued with a mind of its own. Some deep, forgotten sense of his was drawing him into the deteriorating structure despite the danger of an integral collapse or an ambush.

Upon reaching the doorway and peering into the dark abyss within, his flight instinct took over. Backing away with a hand on the hilt of his cutlass, Jack was ineptly alert once more and searching the premises with his eyes for any signs of a fight to come.

Once again he found nothing.

'_I'll come back here later. During the daylight hours,_' he reasoned with himself, reluctantly leaving the structure behind. As he turned he was shocked to find that the cloaked man was nowhere to be seen and there was no indication that he had been there at all. Shaking his head to himself, Jack headed back to his _Pearl_ with much more on his mind than had been when he left her.

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"Gibbs,"

"Aye cap'n?"

"I'm going ashore for the afternoon. You're in charge."

"Aye sir."

Jack nodded and strode purposefully toward the gang plank in his oddly rolling gait. He paused before beginning his descent to the dock and turned back to Gibbs with a friendly glint in his eyes even though he kept a straight face. "Try not to sink her; I'd 'ave to kill yah."

Gibbs nodded with a smile and couldn't help but chuckle at his captain's joking comment. While it was true that Jack's life revolved around the _Pearl_, he and Gibbs had had a type of joke running between them for awhile. Gibbs knew Jack trusted him with the ship but just for looks' sake Jack would give the quartermaster a somewhat snide remark every time he left.

Once Jack was out of hearing range and almost out of sight Ana disembarked from the dark ship and set off stubbornly after him. She was curious as well as angry; the night prior, when she had asked Jack why he had left the tavern so early, he had shrugged the question off and danced around it each time she brought it up.

If it had been any other member of the crew that had asked Jack—even Gibbs—Jack would have danced around the question to no end and it would have been considered a common thing. But Ana had been worried when Jack had ignored _her_ inquiries. Their relationship had grown to more than just captain and first mate over the last few months and Jack had been trusting her with more and more of his best-kept secrets whenever they spoke in private. Now she was worried when he refused to answer her questions no matter how secluded they were.

That's why she was determined to learn the truth.

She followed Jack along his winding path through the outskirts of the town and eventually they both came to a stop outside a carriage house that had definitely seen better times. Ana slipped into the shadow cast beneath a nearby building and watched Jack in complete silence. She would more likely than not reveal her presence to her captain but she was waiting for that 'opportune moment' that Jack always spoke of. At the moment she was more interested in trying to learn the rhyme to his reason.

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Peering into the still-dark carriage house, Jack drew his cutlass in preparation should a surprise attack come. After taking a deep breath to calm his nerves he stepped through the threshold and visually scanned the room. Only a small portion of the main room was still accessible; the roof had collapsed around the back and sides of the building. Where there were patches of roof missing sunlight streamed through, casting eerie beams of pale light throughout the room. Deep in his heart Jack felt as though he had been in this very place a very long time ago but he couldn't bring himself to believe what his senses were telling him. He paced forward slowly, his whole body tensed and prepared for an attack that he was sure would come.

The only things that met him were several old carriages in different stages of disrepair and a small forge in one corner with various rusting tools laid about it. In another corner, to the door's left, there laid a most unusual sight. Half-buried under a pile of rubble there was a human skeleton. Scraps of clothing still were draped about the bones and the carcass was propped up against the deteriorating wall of the carriage house.

Jack narrowed his eyes curiously at the pile of bones and took a few unsure steps toward the gruesome sight.


	3. Part 3

**DISCLAIMER:** I think we all know the truth. But for those who want to know, here it is: I do not claim ownership of anything you recognize. They belong to whom they belong and those people know who they are. Savvy?

**Summary:** For years Jack has kept his darkest secret close beside him. However, he is forced to tell Ana the truth when a mysterious figure confronts Jack and claims to know the answers Jack seeks. J/A. Rating for some violence.

**Half-Life**

**Part 3**

Jack slowly advanced towards the bones and looked them over cautiously, feeling another strange twinge of memory pull at his heart. He ignored it. "Poor soul," he muttered under his breath, preparing to turn away from the unnerving empty stare of the skull's sightless sockets.

"Poor soul indeed."

Jack spun on his heel with his cutlass raised, prepared to fight. Thoughts reeled through his mind as he mentally prepared himself to fight the large batch of foes that he was sure were near.

"Relax friend. What are you doing here alone?"

Jack relaxed significantly when he saw that the only other person in the carriage house was the hooded man he had spoken with the night before. He sheathed his cutlass and took a deep breath to regain his nonchalant composure. "Just thought I'd have a look around."

"It is not safe here."

"Then why did you bring me here in th' first place?" Jack inquired with a subtle challenge.

"That is not for you to question. Get out."

"Won't you tell me more?"

In reply the figure lunged forward and drew Jack's cutlass before the pirate could react. The hooded figure grasped Jack's arm as it snaked toward the now-empty sheath and tossed Jack over his shoulder. He had the cutlass pressed to the pirate's throat before Jack could recover from being thrown. Slowly, Jack raised his hands in defeat, having no intention of fighting back. He knew he didn't have the means as he gazed with hidden worry up at the cloaked figure wielding _his_ cutlass.

"Now, I give you a friendly warning," the figure said in a low, dangerous tone that belied the posed friendliness of the words. "Do not come back here unless I bring you. There is nothing to be learned on your own. Stay away from here unless you want both yourself and your first mate to meet _her_ fate." He indicated the pile of bones in the corner with a nod as he said the last, moving the tip of the blade away from Jack's throat just enough so the pirate captain could glance at the bones. "Is that understood?"

"Clearly," Jack hissed, giving in reluctantly. The sword was gone from Jack's neck and as soon as he stood he soon felt the press of the warm hilt in his own hand.

"Good. Now act on it. Out with you and collect your first mate from beside the next building," the cloaked man commanded, pointing a stern finger at the only exit.

"Ana?"

"Go."

Jack turned away from the cloaked figure and exited the ramshackle carriage house dejectedly. He continued on the dusty road until he was near the next building. "Ana!" His voice held all the anger that he bore directed at both her and the cloaked figure whom had caused him to rethink his whole being. And the anger was _not_ suppressed.

Slowly, as if unsure whether or not to approach him, Ana stepped out from the building's shadow and went to stand awkwardly at Jack's side but being sure to stay out of striking distance. She could sense his tension and anger and so decided silence was the best choice. But how had he known she was there?

The two pirates took their time getting back to the docks and their ship. Ana would have liked to travel faster but she knew it was wisest to keep pace with Jack; no matter how slow he was walking. From the look on his face he was lost in his thoughts and probably not very happy ones either.

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When the two pirates set foot onboard the _Black Pearl_ they were unsurprised that the decks were virtually vacant; Jack had given the crew a few extra days of shore leave that morning and they were making the best of it. In other words, most of the hands were probably lying in a gutter somewhere in Tortuga and sleeping off the previous night's fun.

Jack crossed to the sea-facing side of the ship's deck without bothering to announce his presence per usual and thoughtlessly stripped down to only breeches on his way, tossing clothing garments to either side of his path. Ana watched him with a mixture of worry and amusement; she had only seen Jack be so thoughtless a few times since she had known him and even though each time came about when he was deep in serious thoughts she couldn't help but find it entertaining.

When Jack climbed over the railing and dove into the water below Ana slowly strode over to the rail with the simple intent of watching over him. As she leaned heavily on the rail and relaxed, preparing to let her mind wander a bit, she let out a slow, quiet sigh.

"'ello luv,"

Ana started from her half-daze and looked down. Jack was treading water just beside the _Pearl_'s hull and grinning his infuriatingly coy smile up at her.

"Hi Jack," she said back, her voice more monotone than she had intended. As she had suspected Jack's grin faltered at her flat tone and he looked up at her quizzically.

"You a'right luv?"

"It's Ana and yes, 'm fine." Ana replied somewhat tartly, deciding that now would be a rather opportune moment to get revenge on him for his earlier hard edge toward her.

"Ah,"

"What?"

"You need t' relax, luv," Jack said floppily as he leaned back in the water and floated on his back while gazing up at her with that stupid grin back in place.

"Jack I'm not coming down if tha's what yer thinking," Ana growled with a dare just below the surface of her words.

The grin widened. "Get in th' water, luv. That's an order."

Ana shot a dirty look down at her captain before turning her back on the rail. She paced the deck near the rail agitatedly, fighting with herself to come to a decision.

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Jack watched the railing of his ship where Ana had disappeared moments ago with a hopeful look buried deep in his eyes. Surely she wouldn't disobey…

_SPLASH!_

Jack shook the water from his face and moved instinctively toward his _Pearl_ while he waited for his vision to clear of water. When he could once again see properly he found himself looking into Ana's fuming face. He grinned.

"Good t' know yer're no unruly wench." Instantly he regretted his word choice and Ana's slap seconded the regret. When he had spoken he had overlooked the _minor_ detail that Ana would kill—or castrate—a man for calling her a wench. Luckily for him, he was no ordinary man. "I deserved that. Sorry, Ana."

Ana snorted indignantly and glared daggers at her captain. Eventually his kicked-puppy look cooled her raging temper and she smiled. She reached for his cheek and Jack instinctively flinched, expecting another slap. To his surprise all he felt was Ana gently trailing her fingers along his jaw line. His grin returned with a more mischievous light.

Ana froze and lowered her hand. "No."

Jack's grin broadened, glad she had gotten his meaning. He raised a hand over the water and paused for effect even as Ana turned her back on him and tried to swim away. Jack caught her ankle, holding her near him, and brought his hand down on the water, sending a spray of salty liquid over Ana. Ana hissed and turned to face him as he released her ankle with a grin. The grin was washed away when Ana splashed him back.

"Yer're askin' for it now, luv," Jack drawled, sending another cascade of water at his first mate. Ana returned the favor. The two continued to splash and chase one another in the water just inside the _Pearl_'s watchful shadow for quite some time.

Ana lunged at Jack and got behind him, gripping his muscular shoulders to ensure that she would remain behind him even if he tried to turn. After resituating her grip on his shoulders she pushed herself up out of the water and in turn she pushed Jack under.

Jack was barely able to take in a breath before he was forced down into the dark abyss of the water by a force other than his own. Before he could place the sense of foreboding he felt, he was thrashing wildly in the water, fighting the force that was no longer holding him down. In his wild rage he released his only breath into the water and forced his way to the surface.

The moment he broke the surface Jack took a deep breath as if he had been deprived of oxygen for several minutes when he had only been beneath the water's surface for a few seconds. After calming his nerves, but not his temper, sufficiently he turned a sharp gaze on Ana; his look alone made her recoil.

"_What the-_"

"Jack,"

"_Was tha' for?!_"

Ana looked down at the water, suddenly very timid. When Jack got this mad even her temper knew that arguing would only make things worse; she took his yelled berating in silence. She remained placidly in the water even after he swam for the rope hanging from the _Pearl_'s railing and began climbing.

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Ana crossed the deck slowly, silently going over her plan for confronting Jack which was sketchy at best. She knew he was not one to go wandering randomly through any town without a purpose in mind. Therefore she had to discover the method to his madness from that afternoon. The only hindrances to this discovery were Jack's reluctance to answer her questions and his uncharacteristic anger. She knew she was treading on thin ice by even trying to understand her captain's newest torment.

And normally she wouldn't be as inquisitive as she was now except that he was also behaving strangely, even for him. Once they had finished their duo swim in the early afternoon he had instantly retreated into his cabin and hadn't been seen or heard from since; it was now well past sunset.

Finally having reached the door to his cabin she knocked lightly. "Jack?"

"What?" His response was much harsher than she had expected but she felt that she somehow deserved it.

"Can I come in?"

She heard her captain sigh in irritation and soon a series of footsteps crossed to the door. After a moment's pause Jack opened the door slightly and peered out. "An' why would you want t' be doin' that, I wonder?"

Somewhere deep inside Ana was hurt by the cold sarcasm in his voice but she was careful not to show it. "T' talk," she replied without missing a beat.

Jack sighed in his overly dramatic fashion and stepped aside, opening the door wide and grandly bowing as he waved her in. Ana stepped into the cabin and shortly after jumped when the door was slammed shut. Jack swished past her and went to sit at the table, propping his feet up on the tabletop and leaning back in the chair. "Wha' do you have t' say? Try t' make it quick Anamaria."

Ana, having no intention of leaving him alone until she had learned all the details of his plight, sat down across from him and fixed her steady gaze on his face. In response Jack simply pulled his hat down to cover his eyes.

"Speak up."

"Why did ye go to tha' carriage house today?"

"A better question is, why did you follow me?"

"I asked first."

"I'm th' cap'n."

"Fine. If I answer first you answer after that, deal?"

"Perhaps."

Seeing that she didn't really have a choice, Ana decided to tell the truth. "I followed you because you were actin' kinda strange last night. You left th' tavern early and I went back t' the ship, thinking that's where you had gone. But you weren't here."

"What does that have t' do with today's trip?"

Ana shrugged. "I suppose what you will."

"Fair enough. But I don't need you watchin' my back all th' time. Or any of th' time, fer that matter." Jack's face was still cast in the shadow of his hat and that fact was starting to get to Ana. She hated when she couldn't see his face while talking to him for even though he was very good at keeping his emotions masked, when they spoke alone she could usually read his emotions by looking into his eyes.

"Now answer me."

"I were meetin' someone."

"Tha's a lie and we both know it, Jack Sparrow."

"_Captain_ Jack Sparrow."

"Not here yer not. Not when we're havin' a talk. Now answer truthfully."

Jack remained eerily still and silent; Ana set her resolve and waited him out. He broke with a slow exhalation and ran a hand down his face as he leaned forward conspiratorially. When his movements brought his dark gaze from the shadow of his hat the look in his eyes froze Ana to the core of her being.

"I can't tell you why unless you know the whole story. And it's a story I'd rather not delve into now. Or ever." Ana was shocked at how clear-cut his speech was as he spoke. Never in all the time she'd known him had she heard him speak so seriously. Even when he had been addressing life and death issues before he had maintained the drunken slur that was so characteristic of him. She must have stumbled on to his darkest secret.

"If you told me I could help. Or it could at least help me understand so I wouldn't be tempted t' skin you alive every time I saw you." She had expected the last bit of her speech to draw even a hint of a smile from him but his face remained as cold as stone.

"This is no joking matter Ana. The only other person in the world who knows—knew—this about me was the same man I owe my life to a hundred times over. But now he's gone."

"Bootstrap?" Jack didn't respond directly nor did he move to show any acknowledgement but something deep in his eyes told her that she had guessed right. "Jack you can trust me. Just tell me this once an' I swear I shall never bring it up again."

Jack's fiery brown eyes met her steady hazel gaze and she could see his inner struggle. She knew he had problems trusting anyone, no matter how long he had known them, ever since Barbossa and his first crew had mutinied. A part of her was angry with him for not trusting her outright even though she understood, to some degree, why. Jack and Barbossa had once been as close as brothers, or so he had said. Then, when Barbossa had led the mutiny, Jack had been nearly broken. Nearly. But now he was older, wiser, and used his past to learn. Now he was very careful about who he let into his heart and the current number of residents there was zero.

"Alright."

Ana jumped when Jack spoke, startled her from her thoughts. "What?"

"Alright. I'll tell you. But if you let anyone else know, I'll have to kill you."

Ana nodded gravely knowing full well that his word was his bond. "You can trust me. I want you to know that."

Jack tentatively wet his lips, seeming to fortify himself against what he was about to say. "Why do you think I avoid questions about my past?"

Ana shrugged then silently chided herself for the action. Jack might take it as a sign that she didn't really care. "I always figured you just had bad experiences in the past and wanted to avoid bringing them up. Or just to add to the mystery of your title."

Jack nodded, the movement barely noticeable. "It's good that you think that, but you're wrong."

"Will you tell me the truth?"

"The truth? If only I knew."

"What do you mean?"

Jack fell completely silent and as the minutes ticked by Ana began to feel awkward. Her captain's eyes took on a distant light and she began to fidget. She soon began to feel as if she had gotten as far as possible with the infuriating man.

"I don't know the truth."

Ana jumped, having not expected Jack to say anything more on the topic. When his words finally registered with her, her eyes filled with compassionate sadness for him.

"All I remember is waking up in an inn in Tortuga and Bootstrap…taking care of me." Ana was speechless. She wasn't sure if he was lying to her…but his tone was so serious; so sincere. She kept her compassionate expression and remained silent, trying to coax him into continuing. "He claimed he had watched the captain of a merchant vessel throw a burlap sack over the ship's rail when the pirates had boarded. So, he jumped over and fished the sack out…"

Ana couldn't help herself; she had to ask. "What was in the sack?"

"Me." Despite her resolve to keep her emotions masked, as Jack did so well, Ana's jaw slipped open in shock. Jack ignored her reaction as the words continued to pour from his mouth, but not unchecked. "Bootstrap told me that I was half-drowned when he found me. So he took me in, thereby loosing his position on the ship, and cleaned me up; nursed me back to health. Heck, Bootstrap made a better nurse than a pirate. I wish he would have quit…right there…" Jack paused and swallowed several times, obviously he was loosing control of his speech to his emotions and he was fighting to regain the control he valued above everything else.

Finally he was able to continue in a more collected manner. "Then he asked me why I had been in the sack in the first place." Jack paused again while the memories of his closest—now deceased—friend choked him further and gave his emotions a gateway to Jack's composure. Ana waited as patiently as she could; she thought she knew how hard it must be for him to talk about what he remembered, but she only knew the half of it. Jack finally forced himself to continue, his voice barely above a whisper as he finished his story. "I don't know."

"You don't remember?" Ana asked gently, trying to keep her emotions from overcoming her voice.

"No. Apparently I had received a bad head injury before I was shoved in that sack." Jack answered bitterly. "And that's that. I don't know my past before I was thirteen."

"Jack," Ana breathed sympathetically as she placed a hand lightly on his shoulder and squeezed gently, trying to use her presence to reassure him.

Jack slipped out from under her hand's comforting warmth and paced to the far side of the room. Though she couldn't be sure, it looked to Ana as if he was…shaking. Shaking with silent sobs. She crossed the cabin hesitantly and when she came to a stop just behind him her suspicions were confirmed: the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow was crying. Ana chided herself silently once again. Of course he was crying, who wouldn't in his position? After all, Jack was still only human…

Ana was pulled from her thoughts as Jack sank to the cabin floor, his back still to her, and placed his head in his hands. The inaudible sobs that wracked his body were more pronounced and Ana knew he was using quite a bit of energy to keep himself silent. Ana sank faithfully beside her captain and pulled him into her arms. She was mildly surprised when he didn't resist the offer of comfort and she held him as he began to cry openly, staining her shirt with his tears.

Ana waited for him to calm down before finishing his story; he still hadn't explained his being at the carriage house. Finally Jack was able to squelch his emotions and as he wiped the stray tears from his eyes the guard slipped back into place. The only evidence that he had been crying was the redness of his face and eyes and the smeared kohl.

"Don't worry captain, it never happened," Ana said quietly, wanting to win his trust before prodding him for more of an explanation. Jack nodded with the ghost of a thankful smile. "But why were you at the carriage house? What does that have to do with any of it?"

"The man in the hood."

Ana's eyebrows pinched in confusion as her captain stood and brushed past her with his head lowered contemplatively. "Who?"

"I don't know who he is exactly. But he said he could tell me my past…at a price."

A red flag went up in Ana's mind but she pushed the feeling away roughly. "Price?"

"Ne'er mind," Jack muttered, slipping off into his own thoughts. He took in a deep breath and Ana waited, feeling that he was about to speak. "I just owe Bootstrap so much; I'd gladly take his place at the bottom of the sea."

Ana stood and went to Jack's side once more, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "If it's all the same cap'n, I like you where you are right now." Jack grinned at this and Ana's heart fluttered with hope.

As Jack returned to his musings, however, the grin faded. "I should have died in that mutiny, not him. He took me on, taught me how to fight, helped me deal with not knowing my name or where I came from." The ghost of a smile lit Jack's face as memories of his first few years under Bootstrap's council surfaced. "He helped me make a new identity for myself with an utterly absurd beginning involving mermaids and sea monsters." Ana allowed herself to smile slightly as well, feeling content that Jack trusted her. "That's when Jack Sparrow was born," Jack finished wistfully. Then something flashed in his eyes: a determination from deep within his soul. Before Ana could react Jack was heading for the cabin door, fixing his hat firmly on his head.

"Jack, what are you doing? Where are you going?"

"I need a drink. I'll be back before dawn."

Ana watched her captain go silently. She didn't believe his reason for leaving but she wasn't about to get into an argument over it either. She knew he hated being watched over; it made him feel weak, however she couldn't help the fact that she worried over the pirate captain who was too daft for his own good.

So she watched him go quietly and waited for the opportune moment.

_[a/n: 00;; It...grew. Originally this chappy was 3 pages but when I edited it it grew to 7 pages. XD ...sorry?]_


	4. Part 4

**DISCLAIMER:** I think we all know the truth. But for those who want to know, here it is: I do not claim ownership of anything you recognize. They belong to whom they belong and those people know who they are. Savvy?

**Summary:** For years Jack has kept his darkest secret close beside him. However, he is forced to tell Ana the truth when a mysterious figure confronts Jack and claims to know the answers Jack seeks. J/A. Rating for some violence.

**Half-Life**

**Part 4**

Jack paced slowly along the rough, unkempt streets. His hands rested in his coat pockets and his head hung low to the point where his chin almost rested on his chest. All flippant gestures were absent as if they had never existed as Jack continued to trod along, ignoring the light drizzle that was falling and soaking through his clothing to chill his skin. His thoughts were racing from one thing to another but always shied away from the memories of Bootstrap. Despite the fact that many of those memories were fond Jack refused to let himself delve into them because he considered his friendship with the whelp's father to be one of his biggest flaws. Instead he tried desperately to penetrate the foggy barrier that blocked his childhood memories from his probing mind. Despite his attempts to remember, all he received for his actions was a headache that grew in intensity every time he tried to remember his clouded memories.

As he moved slowly along through the deserted streets the rain began to fall more heavily and was soon accompanied by a strong wind that tugged harshly on his sodden clothing, pressing it even closer to his body. So absorbed in his thoughts was he that he did not realize he had arrived at the carriage house until he nearly impaled himself on a slanted support beam that had broken through the outer wall and hung out over the ground just outside the building.

Jack stopped cold in his tracks and finally drew himself from his inner musings. His gaze traveled slowly upwards to take in the whole of the aged building before him until he finally had seen it all and found himself looking at the roof. Rainwater was rolling in thick streams off the thatched roof creating a waterfall that separated the inside of the building from the outdoors. He lowered his intense, questioningly blank gaze and stared vacantly through the sheet of falling water to the dark rectangle of the empty doorway.

Jack hesitated at the entrance and stood staring at it for longer than he normally would had his mind not been so crowded. Eventually the freezing cold of the pelting rain coupled with the hard gusts of wind convinced the pirate captain to enter. Jack forced a way through the curtain of water and entered the relatively dry carriage house, shaking his arms in an attempt to rid himself of the excess rainwater.

As he stepped further into the building's shelter he stripped off his heavy outer coat and hung the clothing article carefully over an angled beam that hung down from the roof. He removed his hat and shook it wildly in the air before him and watched as water flew in every direction away from the worn leather. Realizing that his clothing was as dry as it would get for a good long while Jack placed his hat with his coat and moved over to the forge at the other corner of the room. His mind began to drift once more into the task of discovering his past for himself and the oddity of a fire being lit in the forge's hearth escaped his wandering mind.

Jack started and jumped as a loud crack of thunder sounded, shaking the carriage house down to its foundation and yanking him roughly from his thoughts. He instinctively put his hands over his head, half expecting the roof to cave in. To his relief—and surprise—it remained firm. Jack lowered his arms slowly and squinted into the darkness that enveloped the interior of the carriage house beyond the fire's dancing flames. He rose and stretched his now-stiff muscles. Apparently he had been sitting before the fire for longer than he recalled; his clothing was already starting to dry.

As he started to step away from the forge, strong arms wrapped themselves around his body and a grimy, foul-smelling cloth covered his nose and mouth. Jack was caught completely off-guard but his instincts took over. He struggled wildly, kicking, punching and swearing but the arms remained firm around his chest and neck. As Jack took deep breaths through the cloth to power his resistance to the restraints he felt his strength draining instead of growing. His vision began to fade into the darkness of unconsciousness and his struggling slowed significantly as the seconds of the already-decided fight passed.

"Welcome home Jack Sparrow," a familiar voice whispered in Jack's ear.

Jack's eyes widened in recognition of the voice but a few breaths later they fell completely shut as the pirate succumbed to the effects of the drug that covered the cloth.

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Ana shifted anxiously from foot to foot in her shelter under the roof outside a small house. It had been so long since she had lost sight of Jack and the rain had only grown heavier. It was bad enough that she was soaked through to the bone, cold and alone, but now she was beginning to _really_ fret over Jack's safety. Had he gone into that ramshackle building? What if it caved in during the storm?

Ana internally argued with herself over whether or not to go find Jack. On one hand it was important to know that he was safe; that was always her main concern. But if she did find him would he be upset with her for following him? She had a feeling he would and she didn't really fancy another berating from him for her over-protectiveness. But wouldn't it be worth it to know he was safe?

Abandoning her internal struggle in light of a sudden feeling of foreboding Ana stepped out into the downpour and headed toward the carriage house with care, hoping she would see Jack before he saw her. She walked slowly, carefully, trying to keep quiet in case the reckless wind were to pass any noise she made on to Jack. When she made it all the way to the doorway of the carriage house and found no sign of Jack her worry doubled eight-fold. Squinting through the curtain of rain rolling from the roof she could just make out a gentle glow from within the carriage house. Perhaps Jack had started a fire to keep warm?

Ana proceeded through the wall of water, grimacing at the iciness of it, and stepped into the carriage house, shaking to try and rid herself of the cold water. As she neared the center of the small room she was enveloped in a calming warmth that came from a fire made in the corner where an old forge laid and the cold of the storm was forgotten. She stepped forward slowly and froze when she heard metal scraping on stone.

"Jack?" she whispered into the emptiness.

"He is here, but a bit indisposed at the moment, so sorry miss. I knew he would come; he is as a moth drawn to a flame and his fate will be the same as that of the moth." Strong arms wrapped themselves around Ana, pinning her arms to her sides. Try as she might, her struggles got her nowhere. Her unknown captor easily dragged her over to one of the stronger support beams and made quick work of tying her to it, ignoring the few wild, but lucky, hits Ana scored on his person.

"Where is he? What've you done?" Ana demanded angrily, pulling against her bonds with all ferocity she could muster. The cloaked figure that had tied her up nodded to the beam that stood closest to the forge. Ana's gaze followed his direction and she smothered a gasp when she was able to make out a stationary figure bound tightly to the beam. Several more heavy ropes than were holding Ana held the body up for the person seemed unable to keep himself upright under his own power.

"Jack!" Ana called, putting a voice to her inner flare of recognition. "Wake up!" she added in a harsh whisper, desperately hoping to get through to her captain. He didn't stir.

"That won't do you any good. He'll wake up when he's ready…assuming the effects have worn off enough, that is." The cloaked figure tilted his head up ever so slightly, bringing his mouth out of the cloak's shadow. A sinister grin twisted his lips and Ana's blood boiled at the expression.

"You drugged him?!" The figure's even darker smirk of pleasure drew out Ana's anger further and if she had had any doubts about their captor they disappeared in an instant. "You filthy, back-stabbing b-"

"Of course I did. We both know that he's too stubborn to obey even the simplest request." Ana's lip twitched in agitation and she glared heatedly at the cloaked figure who caught her look and remained unfazed. In fact her anger seemed to make the situation all the better for him. He sauntered casually over to a worn table that stood at a slant due to the half-leg on one corner and took Jack's cutlass from it, looking the blade over expertly. Ana had a feeling that his slow movements were deliberate and meant to fan the embers of her anger up into a blazing fire. It was working.

"What a shame, I would have thought the infamous Jack Sparrow would have had a better blade with which to slit throats. This is the biggest piece of junk I've ever seen."

Ana couldn't help but growl a bit in disgust as some inner feeling flared and told her to stand up for her captain. "It's _Captain_ Jack Sparrow fer one thing. And another, that blade is a fine piece. I'll wager th' first speck o' blood that touches th' blade'll be yers." It was true that the blade was a fine one because Will had made it as a special present for Jack the last time the _Pearl_ and her crew had stolen into Port Royal for a visit. In fact, Jack hadn't used that sword to make a single kill; he valued it too much to stain its steel with blood. But Ana had a feeling that once Jack woke up and got free that he would make an exception to that rule for this freak.

"Oh yes, I forgot," the man chuckled, "he's _weak_. Jack Sparrow couldn't kill a man if his life depended on it."


	5. Part 5

**DISCLAIMER:** I think we all know the truth. But for those who want to know, here it is: I do not claim ownership of anything you recognize. They belong to whom they belong and those people know who they are. Savvy?

**Summary:** For years Jack has kept his darkest secret close beside him. However, he is forced to tell Ana the truth when a mysterious figure confronts Jack and claims to know the answers Jack seeks. J/A. Rating for some violence.

**Half-Life**

**Part 5**

"Jack's not weak!" Ana spat quickly, eager to defend her prone captain in any way she could. She watched in tense confusion as the cloaked man stepped over to the beam on which Jack was tied, still holding the pirate captain's cutlass. She felt every muscle in her body go as tight as a drawn bowstring when the figure placed the tip of the cutlass under Jack's chin and lifted, exposing his throat, to which he pressed the tip of the blade. "What are you doing?!" Even as the steel drew a line lightly across Jack's collar bone and left a trail of blood the pirate captain didn't move.

"You know, I almost like the idea of slitting his throat here and now…"

"Only a bloody coward would kill an innocent and defenseless man like tha'!"

"He's always been a backstabber. I would just be returning the favor."

"How would you know?" Ana growled dangerously, suddenly fearing the deep, unspoken connection that she felt existed between this psychotic man and her captain.

"Now, now mate," Jack whispered hoarsely, "d'you really think 's right t' kill a man who doesn' know who 'e is?"

"You're asking me of right and wrong Jack Sparrow?" The cloaked figure let out a low chuckle, unsurprised that the pirate was awake. Hope flared in Ana's heart now that Jack was conscious; at least now he might be able to come up with a plan.

"It's about time you thought my opinion was worth something. Of course your opinion still remains worthless to me." He paused then, silently sizing up his options. What would it matter if he told the truth? In the end Jack Sparrow would be dead and he would have revenge. Besides, an explanation would make his plans bloom all the sweeter. "Although, for once you have a point."

Jack lifted his head with great effort and the golden tomcat grin spread slowly across his face. The drug's lingering effects slowed him down and slurred his speech. "Knew ye'd see't my way."

"Now then, where would you like me to start?"

"Why no' th' beginnin'? S'as good a place as 'ny." Ana cast Jack a worried look. The heavy slur that accented his speech was no act; this she could tell. And the way that he struggled to at least appear alert was an indication to her that even though he was awake he wasn't there enough to come up with any substantial plan.

"Ah, the beginning. It's of no true consequence for it began with a death." Both of the pirates remained silent and still, neither really grasping the meaning of the sentence. Ana cast another glance over at Jack but there was no reaction for her to gauge. At least he was with it enough to keep up his mask of indifference. That could make all the difference. "Your mother passed on shortly after you were born Jack. She died at her husband's hand and there she rests for eternity," he said slowly, motioning to the pile of bones lying in the corner. A malicious grin lit his half-hidden face as he caught the spark of hate and sadness that flashed in the pirate's eyes for a second before the emotional guard returned. Ana didn't bother to look at Jack because she knew that he was waking further every second and by now he would be in complete control of his emotions.

"So 'e killed 'er. Why?" Jack's voice was flat and carefully emotionless as Ana knew it would be. She was gratified to find that the slur was lessening significantly and had a feeling that Jack's mind was searching for a solution to their problem.

"It was mostly due to the propriety of it. You see, when you were born, your mother and father were not married. However your father was too kind a soul and after your mother's death he took you in. Stupidly."

"Why bother when he just killed the woman he loved?" Ana asked slowly, almost afraid to cut in. She felt very awkward for hearing this tale and felt sure that Jack was just as uncomfortable although he was better at hiding it. A voice deep in her subconscious questioned if Jack wasn't more uncomfortable because he didn't know the next part of the tale and was afraid that she would learn something he didn't want her to know.

The cloaked figure shrugged and the movement caused the hood to fall back from his face. He wasn't unhandsome if one ignored the jagged scar that ran vertically over his left eye. He removed the cloak entirely and tossed it onto the frame of an unfinished carriage. "I suppose he just felt sorry for the whelp and didn't know how much trouble the boy would get into later on. Your father was a merchant sailor and as such I'm quite sure he doesn't approve of you being a pirate." The statement was followed by a pointed look at Jack.

"And why should I care whether or not he approves when he was never in my life?" Jack asked with a dangerous edge lying just under the surface of his smoothly slurred tone.

The man shrugged loosely and stepped closer to the warmth of the forge fire. Despite the subtlety of Jack's threat the man had sensed it and a small smirk tilted one side of his face. He casually withdrew a pair of tongs from the racks near the fire and gazed into the smoldering embers and dancing flames. "I guess it doesn't matter, does it?"

Jack remained silent and stared blankly at the man's back. As he refocused his attention on the man he missed the wary glances Ana sent his way.

"Growing up you were a pretty common troublemaker Jack. You were loud and stole things and was always caught. Doesn't sound so different from now, does it?"

"Pirate," Jack reminded with an almost playful tone of voice meant to infuriate.

The man's lip curled in disgust at the reminder but he otherwise ignored the comment. He continued to stir the fire's embers with the tongs as he continued with his story. "Once, when you were eight, you were foolish enough to try and ride the neighbor's half-tamed horse without anyone's permission. It was storming—much like tonight—and you snuck out of the house and into the pasture. Not one of your better ideas. Before you knew what hit you the horse had bowled you over with a kick to the chest." The man shoved the tongs into the glowing coals once more and deftly withdrew a red-hot horseshoe that would fit only the largest of draft breeds. He turned to face Jack with the smoking red metal held between the tongs. "You were found around noon the next day, unconscious in the paddock. And for a long time afterwards you had a bruise in the shape of a hoof right about…here." To accentuate his last word the man shoved Jack's shirt aside and thrust the glowing horseshoe roughly onto Jack's chest and watched with a smirk as Jack tried to recoil from the heat. Unable to avoid the flaring pain, Jack winced and clenched his jaw as the horseshoe pattern was burned into his chest and the smell of burning flesh filled the air.


	6. Part 6

**DISCLAIMER:** I think we all know the truth. But for those who want to know, here it is: I do not claim ownership of anything you recognize. They belong to whom they belong and those people know who they are. Savvy?

**Summary:** For years Jack has kept his darkest secret close beside him. However, he is forced to tell Ana the truth when a mysterious figure confronts Jack and claims to know the answers Jack seeks. J/A. Rating for some violence.

**Half-Life**

**Part 6**

The flaming horseshoe remained pressed to his muscled chest much longer than was necessary and soon the blazing pain began to ebb into a burning throb and Jack took quick, deep breaths. The man frowned as he realized that Jack was becoming accustomed to the pain—at least in his exterior show—and with a dark scowl he viciously ripped the metal from Jack's chest and watched in gruesome fascination as quite a bit of skin came off with the metal, creating a fresh wound from which blood began to drip. Sweat was pouring down the pirate captain's face and his breath came in sharp, ragged gasps.

"Leave 'im alone!" Ana snapped sharply, hoping beyond all hope that somehow the feral tone in her voice would frighten the man into backing away from her captain.

The man chose to ignore Ana's outburst and his gaze remained curiously fixed on Jack's pale, sweat-soaked face. "When that horse kicked you it broke a few bones, thereby rendering you completely useless for work for quite awhile. After taking into account the doctor bills and the amount of money your stunt prevented you from earning, your father was charged quite a bit of undue expense."

As the strange man walked back to the fire Jack's head dropped forward and he allowed all the pain he was feeling to surface on his features. No sense in wasting energy with keeping the pained expression at bay when his nemesis was no longer looking. Jack struggled to slow his rasping breathing, but every breath sent fire coursing through his chest and the muscles involuntarily constricted against the sensation. He closed his eyes and forced himself to focus.

"Your father took you on as a cabin boy when you were ten. Did you know that, Jack?" When Jack didn't reply the man cast a glance at the pirate captain out of the corner of his eye and grinned triumphantly when he took in Jack's almost-defeated expression. Ana's obvious concern over her captain only served to broaden his grin and pride. "You caused so many problems to everyone onboard that it's a wonder you weren't fed to the sharks in the first week."

Jack's eyes opened ever so slightly and he forced himself to look up at the man who was silhouetted against the flickering forge flames. When he realized that the man wasn't looking his way he allowed his eyes to drift shut again and the calming embrace of half-consciousness welcomed him.

"For three years you tormented the merchant sailors and the day you turned thirteen is the day the real trouble began."

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_"**Jack!**" The yell filled with rage and pure hatred echoed across the deck and rang up into the rigging. The few crewmen who were near their enraged captain were barely able to suppress a shudder and wince of sympathy for the boy on the receiving end of the captain's anger. Even the ship herself groaned as if she were praying for the lad. _

_ "Aye sir?" A mocking voice called nonchalantly down from a high point of crossing lines in the rigging. The voice belonged to a teenaged boy clad in a loose white shirt that emphasized his lightly tanned muscular chest and dark breeches. His short-cropped black locks flew wildly in the strong winds that blew high in the rigging and threatened to pull him from his makeshift hammock of rope and mast._

_ The captain's heated gaze traveled upward and landed on the insolent youth. The sight of the boy lounging worthlessly in the rigging made the older man's blood boil. "On deck. **Now!**"_

_With an overworked sigh Jack slipped down the ropes, moving as nimbly as any monkey ever could, until he stood before his captain on the deck. His stance managed to convey insubordination and dislike whilst his facial features remained coy. "You called, father?" The mocking tone was still present in his voice, though it was obvious that he was attempting to mask it—barely._

_ "How do you explain the disabled rudder chain and the shredded sail? We'll loose days while we have to stop and repair or replace these!"_

_ "Why do you think I would know anything about it?" The boy asked casually, tossing a stray lock of hair away from his left eye._

_ "Because you are the only idiotic troublemaker on this ship. If anything happened to that chain, it's your fault."_

_ "That's not fair father!"_

_ "Call me **Captain**!" The sharp order was accompanied by an even sharper backhanded slap that sent the young boy reeling to the deck with one hand tenderly pressed to his cheek. "__You're thirteen and it's past time for you to act like it."_

_ Jack was dragged roughly to his feet, the fact that his lip was split and bleeding ignored. The captain brought the youth to the top of the stairs leading below and carelessly tossed the boy down them, not caring that Jack hit the sharp edges of the stairs hard enough to draw blood. When Jack came to a stop at the base of the stairs, sprawled uncomfortably on the ground, the older man proceeded down as well._

_ Jack weakly tried to pick himself up off the deck but his right ankle wasn't cooperating properly. Every time he tried to put weight on it pain flared up and down his leg and dropped him to the deck once more._

_ A tight fist closed around his shirtfront and dragged him from the ground, carrying him through the air and slowly choking him as they made their way to a clear, dimly lit space of the hold. Jack once again met the hard floorboards close and personal as his father dropped the boy to the deck._

_ "What's wrong father?" Jack whispered weakly, trying to pick himself up once more. Another slap sent him crashing into the bulkhead. As Jack touched down on the ground again he spit out a mouthful of blood which was accompanied by a tooth._

_ "You will speak **only** when you have permission. It's about time you learned some manners and a ship's code of conduct."_

_ Jack sat up sorely, gently massaging his jaw and wincing at the pain doing so caused. "Manners? I already ha-" Jack fell back against the hull again, this time from a punch that landed hard on his left cheek. Spots danced across his vision and he felt as if the world were spinning around him._

_ "When will you ever learn, boy?"_

_ "Perhaps when you start-" The punch that met the boy for his retort snapped his head around, drawing a small crack from his neck. Jack shook his head feebly and received a kick in the jaw that sent his head careening back into the bulkhead. His world faded to black even as his captain continued to beat him._

_zZzZzZzZzZzZzZzZzZz___

_ "Cap'n, we're under attack!" The call was accompanied by the crushing echo of cannon fire but no hits were landed on either ship._

_ The merchant captain took one last disgusted look at the bloodied, bruised, unconscious body of his son lying awkward and prone on the floor before he dashed up to the main deck. He silently vowed to finish teaching his son lessons when a more opportune moment arrived._

_ As he stepped onto the main deck and took a quick look around at his wild, disorderly crew a second round of cannon fire resonated between the two ships. Two sets of chain shot shredded the heavy mainsails and a ball punctured the merchant vessel mere inches above her waterline. The waves created from the frantic motions on both ships lapped up into the merchant's hold, sloshing around the lower deck before draining partially back out into the sea._

_ "Colors?" the captain demanded, turning to look at the attacking ship for himself. His breath caught in his throat even before the watch called down from the crow's nest._

_ "They're flying the Jolly Roger, Cap'n! It's the _Doomsayer_!"_

_ The chaotic activity aboard the merchant vessel came to a momentary halt. All the sailors had heard many tales of the _Doomsayer_ and none held a promising end for the prey. She was the strongest pirate menace in the Caribbean and armed to fight down a man-o-war. But despite all the tales Captain Nigel was not about to give up without a fight. It wasn't his style._

_ The _Doomsayer_, mightiest pirate vessel in the Caribbean, pulled alongside the small merchantman, dwarfing the smaller ship by her mere presence. Without missing a beat the call demanding a surrender was passed across the small distance between the ships. Captain Nigel stood his ground, refusing to give into the pirates. Instead, he ordered the cannons to be loaded. Before one shot could be loaded the pirates were swarming the smaller ship, killing foes left and right._

_ 'This will never do,' Nigel thought angrily to himself as he watched his men fall around him. 'At the very least I can set one thing right.' With that single, vile thought in mind he slipped out of the pirates' line of view and down into the cargo hold._

_ When he came upon the spot where his son still lay surrounded by the seawater seeping into the ship's hold he turned away from the sight but felt no remorse for the boy's current condition. Instead of going straight to the boy he gathered lengths of rope and a burlap sack. When he did get near to his son he made quick work of binding Jack's ankles and wrists and lashing the boy's arms tight to his side. As a finishing touch he thrust a filthy kerchief into the boy's mouth and tied it behind his head, creating a gag._

_ When Nigel prepared to toss his son into the large burlap sack he was caught completely off-guard by the fact that the boy was half-conscious and ready to fight back. When Jack resisted his father's heavy hands dragging him into the dark, air-smothering confines of the sack Nigel grouped around for something to aid him. His hand fell on a broken compass atop a nearby crate. After tossing the compass lightly to check its weight he deemed it worthy of the task and brutally brought the hard box down on Jack's skull. As the sharp corner of the compass bit into his flesh and the force of the impact cast his world into darkness the boy fell to the hold floor, as limp as a wet noodle._

_ Without a second thought Nigel shoved Jack's unresisting body into the sack and cast the bloodied compass in with the boy. He tied the sack shut with deft movements and tossed it roughly over his shoulder, hauling it up to the main deck._

_zZzZzZzZzZzZzZzZzZz___

_ Slashing down yet another opponent, William "Bootstrap Bill" Turner looked up when he caught a blur of non-battle movement out of the corner of his eye. Shaking his matted light brown hair away from his eyes he fixed his steady gaze on what he had first seen at a glance. A high-ranked officer from the merchant vessel—perhaps the captain who had not been heard of since the pirates had boarded—was lugging a weighted burlap sack toward the ship's railing and doing so with quite a bit of haste._

_ Bootstrap quirked his head and quickly calculated the likelihood of the sack containing something of value. The odds were that the sack's contents were indeed valuable; why else would the captain be expelling them from the pirates' reach if not? Bootstrap tightened his grip on his cutlass and moved toward the official with a determined stride._

_ Before he was able to reach the merchant captain the sack was sitting precariously on the railing. After a moment's hesitation the captain gave the sack a shove, sending it—and its contents—plummeting to the churning water below. When Bootstrap came to the rail the official had already disappeared amongst the fight and the pirate found a strange stain on the ship's railing._

_ Without bothering to consider the possibilities Bootstrap dropped his sword and pistol to the deck and then leapt overboard, hitting the water moments after the sack. Ignoring the shock of the semi-cool Caribbean water he forced himself to dive past the layers of bubbles clouding his vision. The saltwater stung his eyes but he ignored the flaring pain by keeping his mind set on the prize: the sack._

_ Finally, not too far below his current position, he spotted the dark form of the sack sinking none too slowly towards the crushing depths of the sea._

_ Bootstrap forced himself to swim down faster and he was soon able to catch up with the sack, barely. He grabbed a solid handful of the trailing material above the knot holding the sack shut and dragged the burlap closer to him with great effort. The weight of the sack, even underwater, surprised him but he wrapped an arm around the sack and began kicking for the surface._

_ Bootstrap and his newly acquired sack broke the surface with a splash and the pirate took in great gulps of air while he treaded water, keeping both him and the sack afloat as best he could. Soon one of his fellow crewmembers appeared at the rail of the victorious _Doomsayer.

_ "Little help, mate?" Bootstrap called urgently while waving his free hand momentarily at his crewmate. The other pirate nodded and disappeared further onto the ship's deck. Shuffling noises and calls summoning help reached Bootstrap's ears and soon after a rope smacked the water to his left. With deft movements Bootstrap tied the rope around his waist and fixed a firm hold on the sack. He tugged on the rope twice and was momentarily hoisted from the water._

_ When Bootstrap landed on the ship's deck with the large burlap sack in his arms the crew gathered around the two dripping figures. The _Doomsayer_'s captain moved to the front of the huddle, crewmen scurrying wildly to clear his path. The pirate captain looked down at Bootstrap sternly from beneath the rim of his large-feathered hat._

_ "Bootstrap, explain yerself."_

_ "The merchant captain threw this overboard, sir. I thought it might be of worth and so I retrieved it, sir." Bootstrap explained evenly, indicating the sodden sack in his arms with a nudge._

_ "You know the code. Open it and we'll share whatever is inside per the agreement signed by all members of this 'ere crew."_

_ Without acknowledging his captain's order Bootstrap drew a knife from his boot and freed himself of the rope surrounding his waist. He then turned his attentions to the sack sitting limply on the deck between his legs. Bootstrap carefully but quickly cut the sack open beneath the knot and allowed the sides of the sack to fall to the ground._

_ Not one of the pirates were prepared for what they would find._

_ Bootstrap stared wide-eyed down at the limp, bloodied and bruised boy that lay tied before him. The child's dark hair was matted with saltwater and blood and a large amount of crimson liquid stained his body. The boy's chest rose and fell irregularly and his skin was starkly pale beneath its tan. Beside the boy, lying on the burlap, was a blood-stained compass._

_ Bootstrap ripped his own soggy shirtsleeve and wrapped it tightly around the youth's head in an attempt to stem the flow of blood from the oddly-shaped gouge in his forehead. The boy trembled every once in awhile as his breathing became ragged; a sure sign that a fever and infection was already setting in. Bootstrap carefully cut the bindings that held the boy's limbs at such awkward angles and pried the gag from the lad's mouth._

_ "Toss 'im back overboard, we've no use for 'im," the captain declared evenly, turning his back on the sight of Bootstrap tending to the child with the assurance that his order would be carried out._

_ Bootstrap was on his feet in an instant, now holding the boy protectively in his arms. His jaw was set stubbornly. "I'm sorry sir, but we can't do that! He's just a boy and still alive at that-"_

_ "Bootstrap," the captain snapped, spinning on his heel and cutting the other pirate off. "'e isn't strong enough. You know that only the strong ones survive, or at least you should. 'e will be dead soon and we'll 'ave to throw 'im overboard at that juncture in time anyway."_

_ "He's strong enough, captain. I can't explain it, but I know he is."_

_ The captain silently pondered the situation for a moment. Despite Bootstrap's certainty that the lad would live, he couldn't bring himself to believe it. But what would it hurt to grant a loyal crewman one small request? "Very well Bootstrap, 'e's your responsibility 'till 'e dies. We'll drop you two off at the next port we put into. I'll say it now, though: I highly doubt yer new protégé will make it that long. And know that we cannot spare any medications."_

_ Bootstrap nodded his agreement of the terms of him keeping the boy. "Aye sir. Thank you sir."_


	7. Part 7

**DISCLAIMER:** I think we all know the truth. But for those who want to know, here it is: I do not claim ownership of anything you recognize. They belong to whom they belong and those people know who they are. Savvy?

**Summary:** For years Jack has kept his darkest secret close beside him. However, he is forced to tell Ana the truth when a mysterious figure confronts Jack and claims to know the answers Jack seeks. J/A. Rating for some violence.

**Half-Life**

**Part 7**

"I know wha' happens from there, mate," Jack mumbled carefully, not really wishing a repeat introduction with the horseshoe that his tormentor had returned to the fire.

"Really? And I suppose you remember the feeling of being tied up underwater, eh?" The man's tone of voice sent chills down Ana's spine and in the dim glow of the forge fire it appeared as if Jack had gone suddenly pale. Out of fear or pain, it was hard to tell.

"Let's see if we can jog your memory, shall we?"

"Let's _not_," Ana hissed after a moment, getting suddenly very defensive of her captain. If Jack wasn't going to stand up for himself, she sure wouldn't let him take it lying down. The man's dark eyes turned their harsh gaze on Ana before he delivered a sharp backhand slap to her face. Ana's head snapped around and she remained like that for a few moments, completely stunned.

"'ey! Leave her outta this!" Jack snapped viciously, pulling against his bonds with a burst of strength. The hard gaze returned to the pirate captain once more as the man took measured steps toward Jack meant to instill fear. The pirate did not back down from the scare tactic and instead clenched his jaw angrily.

"Would you prefer it be you on the receiving end of the pain?" the man whispered huskily into Jack's ear.

Jack's infamous lopsided grin lit his face. "Nothin' like a lil' fun on a stormy day, eh?" As if to back the pirate up another rumble of thunder shook the building, knocking dust and rubble loose from the rafters to shower the floor in grit.

"I couldn't have said it better myself." The man spat into Jack's face before drawing a knife from his belt and cutting Jack's bonds.

Jack took his chance and shoved away from both the beam and his captor and dashed toward the table where his cutlass lay. He was pulled up short by the stronger man who then spun Jack to face him before sending the pirate captain reeling to the ground with a punch. As the man hauled Jack to his feet Ana saw that there were four large gouges in Jack's cheek where the man's knuckles had touched the pirate's skin.

With one arm wrapped around the pirate the man cleared the table off with a swipe of his free hand. Jack was effortlessly slammed down on his back on the tabletop and tied down. After the pirate captain was secured the man stretched his right hand and removed a string of spiked rings from his fingers.

"It's funny, but when I bought these I never thought I'd get the pleasure of scarring your flesh with them Jack. And now the real fun begins."

"Yah mean tha' wasn't fun 'nough?" Jack mocked with a wide grin despite the pain the expression caused to flare in the bleeding gouges along his cheekbone.

The older man's face darkened and he turned his back on both the pirates, stepping over to where a series of buckets littered the ground, each filled to overflowing with rainwater caught from the numerous leaks. "I'll teach you to mind your place yet boy."

The man returned to Jack's side moments later with a crunched up, grimy cloth and one of the buckets of rainwater. "Do you remember, Jack?" the man asked evenly, forcing the rough cloth into Jack's mouth and pushing it down so it scratched the back of the pirate's throat. "Do you remember the feel of it? The feel of being beaten and trapped?" As he spoke, the man proceeded to pour the water from one of the buckets slowly through the cloth and into Jack's mouth. "Of being trapped…alone…unable to breathe…sinking hopelessly to the bottom of the sea?" he hissed harshly, dumping the water into Jack's mouth at a quicker pace, causing the rough material to tear at the pirate's throat.

Despite Jack's attempts to spit the gag out or turn his head away from the stream of water the older man kept one step ahead of him. Jack was forced to swallow the water and as he did something clicked in his memory and he finally began to feel the sheer terror he had experienced as a half-conscious teen tied and bloodied in a sack. He began struggling wildly against his binds but the water continued to come, slowly suffocating him as he tried desperately to draw a breath. When he did draw a breath it was one of water instead of air and he coughed roughly into the gag as water entered his lungs.

Finally it stopped.

The gag was removed from Jack's mouth and despite the sudden freedom Jack saw small dots dancing in his vision. He took great gulps of air in through his mouth but soon found it to be a bad idea; his throat was scraped, bleeding, and sore. Jack coughed hollowly and Ana was terrified to see drops of blood soar through the air and land only to stain Jack's shirt.

"Yer terrible! What'd Jack e'er do t' you!?" Ana demanded, pushing against the ropes holding her in place with fire in her eyes.

The man ignored Ana's outburst and kept his dark gaze trained on the pirate whose breathing was coming in shallow gasps as he tried to breathe without further aggravating his torn throat. Often the pirate coughed hollowly, sending more of his blood into the air as he tried to rid his lungs of the water they had taken in.

"So Jack, having fun?" the man asked with a wicked sneer which broadened when the pirate's eyes fell shut and his breathing continued to rasp more evenly. The man nodded slightly to himself and turned to the forge once more.

Jack tilted his head to the side and opened his eyes so he was staring at the rain pouring down outside. He watched as the grayish blue shadows the rain cast onto the dirty floor through the window played and danced slowly, eerily. The building was illuminated by a flash of lightning with a tremendous rumble of thunder not a minute later.

The golden smirk lit on Jack's face once more and his eyes fell shut.


	8. Part 8

**DISCLAIMER:** I think we all know the truth. But for those who want to know, here it is: I do not claim ownership of anything you recognize. They belong to whom they belong and those people know who they are. Savvy?

**Summary:** For years Jack has kept his darkest secret close beside him. However, he is forced to tell Ana the truth when a mysterious figure confronts Jack and claims to know the answers Jack seeks. J/A. Rating for some violence.

**Half-Life**

**Part 8**

The man returned to the table on which the pirate lay wearing heavy leather gloves and a tray of red-hot horseshoe nails in hand. "You wrecked so many things in your father's life Jack. Do you realize that?" The man's brows knit as he saw what Ana could not: the pirate was unconscious. A twisted grin lit the older man's face. "So like him. He's retreated and so hopes to avoid the pain. I know his game well."

"Just who are you?" Ana asked, her voice holding a deep-rooted concern for Jack.

The man placed the tray on the table beside Jack's relatively still form and turned to Ana with a sarcastic bow. "Captain Nigel Stonder at your service, _m'lady_." The way he spat the title made it sound like the vilest curse in the world. "Well, ex-captain, really. I'm retired."

Ana's jaw fell slack. "Yer-"

"Jack Sparrow's father, yes. And disgusted of the fact. I've come to finish what I started in the hold of my merchant ship all those years ago."

Ana shoved her weight against her bonds with all her fury. This man was the same one who had beaten Jack mercilessly and without reason and now he was bent on killing her captain in the most painful way! As she tugged she was pleased to feel a slight release in the binds around her body but she was careful not to let the fact show in her expression.

"Now if you'll excuse me," Nigel said with fake charm as he turned back and picked up the tray once more. "Well Jack, it seems as if you've found a loyal wench," he muttered with a sinister grin down at the slack-faced pirate. "But loyalty will get you nowhere. You will still die here and soon after, so will she." Nigel took up a small, sharp-bladed knife and slit Jack's shirt—sleeves included—open, letting the ruined fabric lie on either side of the pirate.

Nigel took up the first blazing-hot nail and slowly pressed its tip into Jack's right shoulder. "These nails represent the things you have ruined in my life. And believe me, there's a lot. Firstly, you are the cause of your mother's death." He continued to apply pressure as the nail sunk deeper and deeper into Jack's flesh until it finally was in as far as it would go without removing the head. Nigel watched Jack's face the whole time and was irritated to find no trace of discomfort. He took up another nail and put it into the pirate's left shoulder, still watching for any results. Nothing.

"I know you can feel this Jack. Just give in. You're a broken man." He took up two more nails and pressed them both into Jack's left forearm, again with no reaction from the pirate.

"You destroyed my household." He pounded another three nails into Jack's right forearm. "My ship." Another five nails were pressed into Jack's torso. "My_ life_." Nigel shoved seven more fiery nails into Jack's body and, much to his vexation, Jack didn't even flinch once.

Even more to his displeasure, he had run out of nails.

"Stop it! Ye'll kill 'im!" Ana cried, still struggling against her bonds.

"I think we've established that is the _point_ of this exercise, wench."

Ana spat defiantly at Nigel's feet and glared savagely at him with blazing eyes. "I'm _not_ a wench. An' ye'll never kill him."

"Oh? Why are you so sure?"

"Because, he's-"

"Cap'n Jack Sparrow…savvy?"

Both Ana and Nigel were shaken from their face-off and looked to the table where Jack was looking at them with a weak—but triumphant—grin.

"Ah, finally decided to come back and face me like the piece of bilge slime you are, eh Sparrow?" Nigel asked nonchalantly as he returned to the tableside.

"Th' on'y bilge slim I see 'ere…'s you," Jack muttered weakly, his throat still very sore and his voice raspy.

For his insolent remark Jack was rewarded with a backhanded slap across his face that warranted a small crack from his neck as his head whipped around and smashed against the tabletop. Once again his vision began to grow blurry as darkness reached up to offer him its rest. Jack resisted.

"Leave 'im alone! Try killin' me, yah coward!" Ana screamed, tugging roughly on her bonds until her wrists were scraped and bleeding.

Nigel grinned, the expression meant for Jack although his words were addressed to Ana. "I thought you'd never ask." He drew Jack's cutlass off the floor where it had fallen and approached Ana with his fear-inducing stride. Ana jutted her chin out rebelliously and glared daggers at the approaching man, shoving her fear aside.

The look had not been lost on Jack. He closed his eyes heavily with a small sigh and turned his face away from the scene that was about to unfold.

"How fitting that Jack's blade will be the one to shed your blood. Knowing him he will never forget this." Nigel stopped before Ana and a purely evil grin lit his face with a dark light. "Goodbye, wench."

"_Nigel!_"

Nigel dropped the cutlass to his side once more and Ana opened her eyes, realizing she had closed them on reflex as the blade had drawn near.

"What _now_, Sparrow?"

"Kill me."

"_What?!_" The exclamation of amazed shock had come from Ana, and both she and Nigel were eyeing the pirate captain curiously. Neither could see his face.

"Le's make a deal, Nigel. 'm sure yer a _reasonable_ man…when yer no' bent on sheddin' yer son's blood."

"I pride myself on it," Nigel responded casually.

"Well then, 'ere's th' deal. Do wha'e'er ye want t' me, bu' let 'na go. Th' only thing she did wrong was followin' me." Ana's jaw went limp; she knew Jack was dead serious and she suddenly felt extremely guilty for following him. Just because she had he was going to take on all the bloodshed meant for her.

Nigel silently regarded the pirate captain for a moment. "Very well. We have a deal. But she will remain here until you are dead."

"Swear ye'll release 'er," Jack insisted weakly.

"I swear on the pain of your death. Which isn't much, is it?"

Jack managed a mordant grin and couldn't help but wince at the pain that flared in his wounded, stiffening cheek. "Fair 'nough."

"Well, it won't do to let that metal remain in you, now will it?" Nigel smirked as he grabbed the head of one of the nails in Jack's left arm and yanked. Hard. Jack bit back a squeal of pain as the nail came free, its long shaft coated in his singed skin and blood.

Nigel took his time pulling the next three nails free and each agonizing moment drew on Jack's inner strength. It was all he could do to remain conscious and ensure Ana was not harmed. He really didn't care what happened to himself; the thoughts of Ana were all that kept him lucid and even that was in the vaguest meaning of the term.

"Don't worry Jack, only," Nigel paused, looking the pirate's scarred body over before continuing, "fifteen more to go."

Jack took a deep breath and closed his eyes as Nigel reached for the next nail. Seeing this, the older man shook Jack's shoulder roughly, drawing a groan of pain from the pirate.

"No Jack, no taking a nap for you."

Jack forced his eyes open, fearing that if he went against Nigel's words that Ana would be harmed. As much as he detested obeying orders from someone who was trying to kill him, Ana's well-being came first.

"Good boy," Nigel taunted, yanking a seventh nail from Jack's body. The pirate's arms were now free of nails but blood was streaming from the newly opened wounds the metal had left.

As Nigel yanked two nails from his torso at once Jack felt the world spin violently and his eyes began falling shut despite his mind's protests. A sharp cuff to his already wounded cheek brought him back around with a small yelp of pain.

Ana watched in horrified concern as nail after nail was torn from Jack's flesh, shedding more of the pirate's blood. She could tell Jack was struggling to hang on, though the reason was quite unknown to her at the time. Why wouldn't he just let himself slip away and avoid feeling the pain altogether? She pulled harder at the ropes holding her and felt them loosen further.

Finally the last nail came free and Jack's eyes closed slowly, his breathing quickened as he tried to assuage the wave of darkness that threatened to overtake him. "'m still…'ere…" Jack forced out through gritted teeth, hoping his words would belay another hit from Nigel. He opened one eye lethargically when no response came and caught a glimpse of Nigel standing before the forge fire.

Inwardly he groaned. What next?

"I'm sure you're wondering 'what next?'" Nigel announced from beside the fire with a wicked grin as if he had read Jack's thoughts. Jack was too busy conserving his strength to answer. "Well, let me tell you, _son_," he spat the word as if it were the vilest curse in existence, "I plan to finish this sooner that previously planned. But do not worry; rest assured that it will still be painful." Nigel turned away from the forge with a fire poker in hand, its tip sharpened like a sword.

Ana tugged roughly at the ropes with a burst of strength that came from her deep desire to protect Jack and was rewarded as they loosened enough for her to slip free.

Nigel positioned the tip of the red-hot fire poker so it was just touching Jack's chest. "And now it will end Jack. Slowly and painfully. But it will be rewarding." He began to put his weight upon the poker and Jack closed his eyes with a sharp intake of breath as he felt the tip puncture his skin, go in a bit, then…nothing.


	9. Part 9

**DISCLAIMER:** I think we all know the truth. But for those who want to know, here it is: I do not claim ownership of anything you recognize. They belong to whom they belong and those people know who they are. Savvy?

**Summary:** For years Jack has kept his darkest secret close beside him. However, he is forced to tell Ana the truth when a mysterious figure confronts Jack and claims to know the answers Jack seeks. J/A. Rating for some violence.

**Half-Life**

**Part 9**

Nothing?

Jack allowed his eyes to open a crack and he would have been shocked if he had had the strength. With an inward sigh he closed his eyes once more.

Ana and Nigel stood in a temporary stalemate, the blazing hot tip of the fire poker between them. Nigel was quickly gaining the upper hand and both competitors knew it. Ana forced her strength into pushing him away, but it was no use. He was much too strong.

Nigel twisted the tool-turned-weapon so that the unheated end clubbed Ana on the side of the head. He watched with a sinister smirk as she crumpled over and laid limply on Jack's chest.

Jack's eyes snapped open at the new contact and his gaze fell on the motionless female pirate laying across his body. His attention was quickly diverted to Nigel, who raised the red-hot fire poker and readied to finish Ana off.

Just before the tip could run Ana through, Jack shoved the female pirate as hard as he could with his shoulder and rolled her off the table. As a result, the sharpened tip cut through the ropes holding Jack down and slit the side of the pirate's wrist, but he took no mind of it: he was free.

Gathering his strength, Jack rolled off the side of the table farthest from Nigel and grabbed his sword from the ground before jumping to his feet.

"Very good Jack," Nigel complemented insincerely. "But have you forgotten?" He indicated Ana who was lying motionless at his feet with the tip of his weapon. "She's mine to dispose of as I please now." To emphasize his point, he stabbed Ana roughly in the side with the fire poker and withdrew it.

Jack's anger flared at the sight of his first mate lying dead at the feet of this strange man and he lunged forward, swinging his blade as if his arms had sustained no injury.

Nigel brought his weapon up fluidly, using it as a sword to parry Jack's attacks and make some of his own. The two fought as equals for a good quarter of an hour and each time Jack began to feel his strength waning he thought of Ana and remembered he must avenge her; this gave him strength.

However hard he fought, Jack could not overcome the fact that Nigel was the better fighter. The older ex-sailor was well muscled and far stronger than Jack. Soon Jack found himself backed against an unfinished carriage frame and disarmed, his sword laying in the years of dusty filth several feet away.

"Looks like you have no more lifelines, Jack." Nigel drew back his slowly cooling weapon and thrust it forward, intending to run Jack through and finish his long quest for the infamous pirate's blood.

Instead of delivering a death blow, he felt more than saw his weapon being yanked from his hands and heard the clink of a chain. Jack grinned slyly, twirling the length of chain he now held.

"You always were one to cheat,"

"Pirate," Jack reminded, tossing aside his only weapon—and his only advantage.

Nigel smiled darkly knowing that now the two were hand-fighting he would win without a problem. Jack was already showing signs of having exhausted his stubborn energy and was generally the weaker of the two.

They were engaged instantly, each landing punches and kicks. Nigel's attacks had more force and easily sent the slimmer man reeling. As Nigel lunged in to land a blow once more Jack danced to the side and shoved Nigel forward after thrusting a small knife that he had drawn from his boot into Nigel's shoulder.

When Nigel finally turned back around he was faced with a faintly smirking Jack and the hot fire poker just an inch from his throat. "Sorry mate, but I win," Jack said dangerously, inclining his head in an ironic gesture as he spoke.

"How could you hope to live with yourself after killing your own father?" Nigel inquired with a grin, thinking this new revelation would give him the hesitation he needed to overtake the pirate and kill him once and for all.

"How could you 'ope t' live with yourself after killin' yer own _son_?" Jack retorted, "I think I'll find a way." Jack showed no sign of being caught off-guard and, wiping all the emotions from his face, he shoved the sharpened tip of the fire poker through Nigel's heart.

As Nigel hit the ground with death-wide eyes Jack felt his last reserves of strength give out. His knees buckled and he collapsed, his head striking against the carriage frame before he hit the ground and laid still, dead to the world.


	10. Part 10

**DISCLAIMER:** I think we all know the truth. But for those who want to know, here it is: I do not claim ownership of anything you recognize. They belong to whom they belong and those people know who they are. Savvy?

**Summary:** For years Jack has kept his darkest secret close beside him. However, he is forced to tell Ana the truth when a mysterious figure confronts Jack and claims to know the answers Jack seeks. J/A. Rating for some violence.

**Half-Life**

**Part 10**

"Gibbs, what're we doin' 'ere so _early_?" Matelot inquired tiredly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "The sun 'asn't even risen yet!"

"Have you not noticed the _rain clouds_, Mr. Matelot?" Gibbs growled, his mind set on finding his captain and first mate. His orders from Ana had been quite clear: come to find her and Jack at the old carriage house outside of town _only_ if they had not returned by dawn. Well, dawn had come and gone, but neither of the commanding officers had returned, which caused Gibbs to worry. '_Needlessly,_' a part of his mind supplied. '_You're fretting over nothing and giving yourself more gray hair for nothing. Jack and Ana are fine. They probably just had a night of fun and are sleeping it off._' The last caused rather scandalous thoughts to invade Gibbs' mind, which he quickly silenced. It would do no good to be thinking such…inappropriate thoughts.

The small procession of sailors came to a halt a few yards from the entrance to the half-destroyed carriage house that had seen many decades of wear and tear from the elements.

'_A rather uncomely place for a night out,_' Gibbs thought to himself, looking the ramshackle building over with a critical eye. To the sailors he said, "Wait here." He then proceeded to enter the deteriorating building with extreme caution, not trusting the water-logged roof. True, the storm was finally dying down, but the rain continued to pour heavily from the sky, casting a grim countenance over the land.

"Jack? Anamaria, lass?" Gibbs called into the semi-darkness of the building's interior. All he received in response was a _pop_ from the dying fire. He decided to try again, louder this time. "Cap'n Sparrow?"

Gibbs paced slowly to the center of the small space and looked toward the forge. Nothing. Letting his gaze wander, it fell on a slightly moving lump that soon revealed itself to be a person. But not just any person.

"Ana!" Gibbs was down at her side in an instant, taking in her pale appearance and the small amount of blood that dripped from a large gash in her side. The wound was mostly cauterized, but it still bled. "Ana, Ana lass, wake up," Gibbs prompted, gently shaking her arm and getting no response. He dropped his hand to his side and sat up. "_Matelot_ The lot o' ye, get in here!" he yelled as loud as he could.

Moments later the group of sailors that had accompanied him were in the building, looking very anxious. When they saw Ana lying motionless their anxiety increased and Gibbs knew he had to take hold of the situation before it got any worse.

"Spread out, find Cap'n Sparrow. Kursar, Duncan, help me," he ordered, lifting Ana's shirt just enough to reveal the injury in her side before tearing his own shirtsleeve and pressing the fabric onto her wound.

The small group did as they were told, two going to help Gibbs while the other four began searching the small area for Jack. It didn't take long before the pirate captain was found.

"Mr. Gibbs! I've found him!" Moises cried from the darkest corner.

Leaving Ana in the care of Kursar and Duncan, Gibbs rose and hastily made his way to where Moises was kneeling next to Jack's shirtless and bloody body.

"He's in a bad way, sir," Moises muttered as Gibbs kneeled next to Jack and took an inventory of the pirate captain's numerous wounds.

"Not as bad as him," Gibbs returned, indicting the impaled body of Nigel lying just a few feet off. "And we'll let a doctor decide how bad off he is." Despite his semi-encouraging words Gibbs knew that Moises was right. Jack was already shivering violently, having been caught under a hole in the roof through which icy water poured down onto him for however long Jack had been laying there. But worse than that was the blood loss. From the looks of it Jack had had to fight after already losing a lot of blood and now he laid in a pool of his own blood.

Gibbs stood. "Alright. Duncan, you, Kursar, and Ladbroc carry Ana. The rest of you come and help with Jack."

And so they left, three crewmen carrying each of the injured nervously, afraid that they might inflict further pain onto their charges. Gibbs followed them out of the building after retrieving Jack's sword.


	11. Part 11

**DISCLAIMER:** I think we all know the truth. But for those who want to know, here it is: I do not claim ownership of anything you recognize. They belong to whom they belong and those people know who they are. Savvy?

**Summary:** For years Jack has kept his darkest secret close beside him. However, he is forced to tell Ana the truth when a mysterious figure confronts Jack and claims to know the answers Jack seeks. J/A. Rating for some violence.

**Half-Life**

**Part 11**

_The sensation of cool water being poured slowly into his mouth frightened him into motion; he jerked his head sharply away from the liquid and continued to struggle when the cup followed his lips. When a strong hand held his head in place he lashed out with all his strength, weak though he was._

****"Easy lad, easy. Don't fight it, you'll 'urt yourself further." _Gradually, as his strength began to diminish, the words came into focus with a memory from years long past._

_Fever-glazed chocolate eyes opened hesitantly and dazedly looked around the candlelit room. The confused gaze fell on two familiar men who were locked in a whispered argument, apparently over him._

_So this wasn't a memory being relived as a dream. But he had been so sure it was. When Gibbs had spoken he had sounded so like Bootstrap…_

_Jack sharply stopped that train of thought where it stood. He had no desire to revisit those baffling years of his life. Too many good memories turned bitter by the loss of a close friend._

_The quiet bickering between Gibbs and the ship's surgeon, Thomas, was growing louder and more sharply-worded by the minute. The noise was driving the irritating throbbing in Jack's skull to a painful pounding. It had to be stopped._

_"Gibbs, wha's goin' on? An' speak **quietly**, man!" Gibbs and Thomas both jumped noticeably at the words from their captain; neither had noticed his awakening due to their argument._

_"Jack! Thank Heaven!" Gibbs breathed as he set down the cup of water he had been holding._

_Jack chose to ignore Gibbs' comment and dragged himself up, bracing his weight back on his elbows. He instantly regretted it; moving—even breathing—sent jolts of pain through his body and he clenched his jaw tightly in a grimace. "Bloody bad idea," he muttered through his teeth as both Gibbs and Thomas nodded their agreement._

_"Captain Sparrow, you need to rest," Thomas said carefully, knowing very well how difficult a patient his captain became when he was awake._

_"Tha' depends. 'ow long 'ave I been out? Gibbs, don' lie," he added when the older sailor's mouth opened quickly, indicating a fib was soon to come._

_Gibbs closed his mouth and silently calculated the amount of time his captain had truly spent in the realm of unconsciousness. "Well sir," he began formally, "we found you an' Ana early this morn-"_

_Jack lurched upright at the mention of Ana's name, completely ignoring his torn body's protests. "Ana! Is she alright?!"_

_Gibbs and Thomas exchanged slow looks and their hesitation to answer sent a chill of fear through Jack despite the raging heat of his fever. The two came to a silent decision and Thomas rose to give the others room, which frightened Jack all the more._

_"Gibbs, answer. **Is she alright?**"_

_The look on Gibbs' face was answer enough and Jack's heart dropped to his gut. He looked down and clenched the sheets tightly in his fists, suddenly feeling very ill but not from his injuries._

_"I'm sorry Jack. She didn't last past noon."_

_Jack leaned forward and buried his face in the sheets, allowing his silent tears to develop into sobs. He didn't care who saw. Ana was dead and his world was shattered._

__

a/n: Yes, I know, another short chapter. I'm terribly sorry that they've been so short lately, but I'm afraid they will stay that way until the end. Which, by the way, is only 2 chappys away! Thank you so much for the reviews! They mean the world to me (seriously). Please keep them coming!


	12. Part 12

**DISCLAIMER:** I think we all know the truth. But for those who want to know, here it is: I do not claim ownership of anything you recognize. They belong to whom they belong and those people know who they are. Savvy?

**Summary:** For years Jack has kept his darkest secret close beside him. However, he is forced to tell Ana the truth when a mysterious figure confronts Jack and claims to know the answers Jack seeks. J/A. Rating for some violence.

**Half-Life**

**Part 11**

The sensation of cool water being forced slowly into his mouth brought him into semi-consciousness with a start and he reflexively moved away from the pursuing cup.

"_Easy lad, easy. Don't fight it, you'll 'urt yourself further._"

As the cup finally stopped its seemingly relentless pursuit the words began to coincide with a memory.

Bootstrap?

Fever-glazed chocolate eyes opened and took in their surroundings: a candlelit cabin onboard a ship. In Bootstrap's place sat Gibbs and Thomas, freshly engaged in an argument. Their incessant bickering soon drove the annoying throbbing in Jack's skull into a pounding headache. It had to be stopped.

"Gibbs, wha's goin' on? An' speak _quietly_, man!"

Gibbs and Thomas both jumped at the sound of their captain's voice; neither had noticed his awakening.

"Jack! Thank Heaven you're awake!" Gibbs breathed as he set down the cup he had been holding.

Jack nodded his acknowledgement of Gibbs' statement and dragged himself up, bracing his weight back on his elbows and instantly regretting it. The movement sent pain through his body and he grimaced. That too had a painful side-effect embodied in four deep spots of fiery pain on his cheek. "Bloody bad idea," Jack breathed roughly, the statement followed by a hollow cough.

"Captain Sparrow, you need to rest. You're much too weak to be moving around," Thomas said carefully, knowing that his captain was a difficult patient.

"Tha' depend, lad. 'ow long 'ave I been out? Gibbs, don' lie." He added the last when the elder sailor opened his mouth quickly, indicating a fib was on the way.

Gibbs closed his mouth quickly and silently calculated the amount of time his captain had truly spent unconscious. "Well sir," he began formally, "we found you an' Ana-"

Jack lurched promptly upright at the mention of his first mate, completely ignoring his body's protests. "Ana! Is she alright?!"

Gibbs and Thomas each pressed a hand gently to one of Jack's shoulders, pressing him back to the mattress without much difficulty; Jack was very weak from his blood loss and fever.

"Take it easy, Jack," Gibbs soothed as he leaned forward to ensure Jack's attention was focused on him.

Gibbs and Thomas exchanged slow looks and their hesitation to answer sent a chill of fear through Jack despite the raging heat of his fever. The two came to a silent decision and Thomas rose, which frightened Jack all the more.

"I won't 'take it easy' Gibbs! Now answer!" Jack snapped as he sat up again.

Thomas returned and handed a fresh cup to Gibbs before finding the floor a very interesting thing to stare at, which drew out Jack's suspicions and fears.

"'ere lad, 'ave a drink; you're burning up." Gibbs coaxed the cup into Jack's hands after a short exchange of threats and denials.

Jack looked down at the liquid reluctantly. Gibbs had just said that he would tell Jack all he wanted to know regarding Ana's health if he drank at least half of the mug's contents. He looked the cabin over slowly, hoping that he would see his lover but his search was inconclusive. With a final protesting glare at Gibbs he upturned the mug and took a hearty gulp.

Rum.

That fact alone helped to lessen the anger pointed at the _Pearl_'s quartermaster.

"Alright Gibbs, your turn," Jack growled, handing the mug back to Gibbs.

Gibbs looked over his shoulder and managed to draw Thomas' gaze away from the floor. The young surgeon briefly examined what remained in the mug and nodded shortly before returning his gaze to the floor. It was then that Jack was alerted to the extreme uneasiness of the younger man. What was he so nervous about? Jack wanted to know.

"Jack,"

Jack's assessing gaze darted away from Thomas and fixed itself on Gibbs.

"Ana's fine enough. Although the poor lass has a nasty slice in 'er side, she'll live."

Jack nodded lethargically, finding it harder and harder to keep his eyes open—much less to concentrate—as Gibbs continued. As his strength drained away he sank back onto the pillows and half-heartedly listened to the blathering quartermaster. He was so tired…

Finally he was too weak to fight the imposing weight of darkness laying upon him and he drifted into a deep, quiet sleep.

zZzZzZzZzZzZzZzZzZzZz

Gibbs fell silent moments after Jack's eyes closed and stayed shut. He looked his captain over with an experienced eye and concluded that the younger man would have at least a half-day of peaceful rest.

"Mr. Gibbs, sir," Thomas said softly, almost fearfully.

"What is it Thomas?"

"Are you sure that was…wise? I mean, won't he be upset that we drugged him?"

"Upset is putting it nicely lad. He'll be furious." Gibbs turned to face the young man as he finished and was both surprised and amused to see how much his words had shaken him: Thomas had gone suddenly pale, almost as pale as Jack, and stood rigidly. The old salt rushed to make amends. "No worries, lad. Jack's a good man even though 'e does 'ave a temper at times. 'e'd never do anything drastic, though 'e does like 'is revenge…" Gibbs trailed off as he realized that his 'reassurances' had only furthered Thomas' anxiety. "But 'e only seeks revenge for _big_ things… No matter, don't worry. Just keep out of 'is way for awhile and I'll tell 'im you were acting under my orders. All will be well, you'll see."

Thomas forced a small smile and nodded. "Or, if things are not well, I know to make the best of the next few hours." His voice held a joking tone and a smile shone on Gibbs' face as well.

"Well said lad!" the older sailor concluded with a wink.

zZzZzZzZzZzZzZzZzZz

Unfocused hazel eyes opened lethargically and were greeted by a small room lit by the warm light of a single candle. The creaks and groans of the ship's timbers as well as her smooth rocking motion welcomed the exhausted pirate back to the world. Jack blinked several times to focus his vision before lifting his head from the pillow with great effort. To his surprise no one pushed him back and told him to rest. In fact, there was no one at his bedside, which surprised him all the more. Whenever he was bed-ridden, Ana would surely be at his side…

Ana.

With a sharp pang of guilt and remorse he remembered that Ana, too, was injured and it was all his fault. He should have done more to discourage her…

With a saddened expression Jack sat halfway up and looked to the other side of the room. When he saw a dark figure sleeping peacefully on a cot pressed against the wall his heart leapt.

Despite his body's protests Jack forced himself to sit up and drape his legs over the side of his bed. After taking a series of deep breaths to belay the pain his aching muscles felt he pushed himself away from the bed and stood albeit shakily. His knees threatened to give out but his sharp-opinioned mind kept him on his feet. Collecting all his focus he stepped forward and continued to push himself step by painful step toward Ana's cot.

Three quarters of the way there his left knee gave out unexpected, dropping him to an ungraceful pile on the floor. Despite the fact that he bit in the cry of pain his fall created a muffled thud that seemed to echo through the cabin. Jack clenched his teeth and took hissed breaths, trying to regain his composure.

The sound of Jack's fall and his labored breathing roused Ana immediately, but it took her a few moments to realize that the sounds came from her captain who was now huddled on the cabin floor. When she spotted her injured captain she jumped out of bed and made her was over to him quickly.

"Jack, what're you doing up?" Ana demanded as she crouched down beside him and laid a gentle, almost hesitant, hand on his shoulder. She knew to be mindful of his wounds. "Here Jack, let's get you back to bed. You really shouldn't be up." She carefully slung one of his arms over he shoulders and, wrapping right arm around his waist, she helped him stand and walk over to his bed.

Once he had settled on the mattress and was taking calm, even breaths once more, the fact that Ana seemed unhindered by the wound in her side sunk in. "Ana, I'm so sorry."

This caught Ana off-guard. "Fer what, Jack?"

"He 'urt you. An' it was all my fault."

Ana shook her head with a scowl at the unpleasant memory. "No Jack, it was my choice to follow you. Therefore it's _my_ fault that _I_ got hurt. I reality I should be blaming myself about your injuries. I could have done something-" Jack's gentle finger on her lips silenced her and her gaze met his.

The two sat in silence for several minutes, each lost in the other's eyes. Both were thinking back on the events of their time in the carriage house and both were sifting through the innumerable regrets they had regarding one another's injuries.

Ana was the first to break the silence. "I'll be right back. We can talk then." Before Jack could argue she stood and left the cabin, closing the door quietly behind her.

Jack settled himself deeper into the mattress and pushed his head back against the pillow. Unintentionally, his eyes drifted shut as the minutes ticked by and he waited for Ana's return.


	13. Part 13 FIN

**Half-Life**

**Chapter 13**

Ana crossed back toward Jack's cabin with a plate of warm food fresh from the galley. Now her regrets of their struggle with Nigel were being replaced by a regret far more pertinent to the time: she had dozed off and left Jack to wake alone. She could only guess how horrible that would have been had she been treated the same. Guilt gnawed at her conscience as she opened the cabin door, plastered a small smile on her face, and entered to face her captain.

After closing the door Ana realized that Jack was no longer awake, but dozing peacefully as he had been less than an hour ago. She shook her head to herself with a wry smile and silently walked to his bedside. How much sleep could a man need? It was true that, through the cleverness—or stupidity—of Gibbs and Thomas, Jack had been _coaxed_ into a full day of uninterrupted rest, but no one had expected the pirate captain to stay asleep for days after the fact. It had led Ana to much worry, especially considering the relative speed with which her wound was healing compared to Jack's slow-healing wounds.

With an inward sigh Ana sank carefully to sit on the edge of Jack's mattress, setting the tray on her lap. Despite her attempt at subtlety Jack woke with a start, but relaxed when he met her gaze with his own tired one.

"'ello, luv. Back 'lready?"

Ana smiled at the gentle mocking tone in his voice that she had come to love. "Yep, and I've got your dinner," she announced quietly, "eat up, cap'n."

Jack quirked his head at her and, with great effort, propped himself up against the pillows. Ana forced herself to remain still lest he take offence at her helpful intentions. Once he was settled Ana handed him the tray and rose to get them both a drink. When she returned Jack had already made a decent headway on the food and accepted the drink with a grateful smile.

After he took a long gulp, Jack paused as if in thought, then caught Ana's gaze with his intense dark one. "Ana,"

"Yes?"

"I truly am sorry. Nigel was my father and therefore what he did reflects on me."

"Jack, I-"

"Don't leave. Please." Ana was speechless. He thought she would _leave_?!

Finally, she found her voice. "I'm here to stay, Jack." To accentuate her point she leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on his uninjured cheek.

_FIN_

a/n: Happy birthday Cap'n Julie! It was so short that it didn't matter, lol.


End file.
